If you’ve followed me at all — on my blog, on my Facebook page, on my page regarding my book Gemworld, or elsewhere — you know that I like to talk. A lot. What can I say? I got a ton of ideas bouncing around in my head at any given moment, and I need an outlet!
Thing is, as I mentioned in a previous blog post, Unexpecting the Expected, I recently got word from my cardiologist that I’m going to need open heart surgery within the next six months or so.
I won’t bore you by rehashing the details. Suffice it to say that my mind has been all a-jumble where writing is concerned. I feel compelled (more than usual) to be vocal about the things I see happening in the world today, but my work on Fractures — the sequel to Gemworld — has ground to a near halt. Oh, I still do some work in it from one day to the next, but every time I open up my novel writing program, my mind is drawn inexorably back toward the largest landmark on my horizon — the surgery.
As much as I’d LOVE to devote my energies toward finishing this second book, I just cannot seem to engage my thought process. I know exactly where I want to go next, and who I want to feature doing what, but…
Part of my process is to lose myself in the story, to “live” my story in my head to the point that it’s so real to me that the story ultimately tells itself, be it dialogue or plotting or twists or what have you. And so help me, with my surgery looming, I just can NOT disengage from real life enough to make that happen!
What IS at the forefront of my mind, and what I CAN lose myself in, is the idea of leaving these blog posts for my kids as a legacy — a living, continuing reminder of their Daddy.
Make no mistake — I DO NOT expect to die in this surgery! I’ve done my due diligence (read: “panicked and jumped on Google at the first opportunity”) and I know that my type of surgery — aortic valve replacement — typically has a 96% success rate, and unless my valve (which has lasted me 43 years) takes an incredibly RAPID turn for the worse, I fully expect to make it to my surgery in good health, make it THROUGH my surgery with strength and resolve, and be back at work — both on my book AND at my nuclear plant — so fast it’ll make your head spin.
Still, that success rate is 96%, and somebody’s gotta make up the other 4%.
As such, I’ve got roughly six months to say what I want to say, to download as much Jeremy Bullard into my blog posts as I can, so that, should the worst be realized, my kids will have access to enough Daddy to hopefully speak to them for the rest of their lives. At least in digital form. I’m sure I’ll speak on my normal range of topics — current events, scriptural application, bits of God-gold that just happened to occur to me out of the blue, the same stuff I post on my blog and on Facebook already — but I will be tailoring my posts to them as much as possible.
In order to do this, I’m going to have to put Fractures on indefinite hold — at least its completion and publishing. As I said, I’ll still be working on it here and there, as I have opportunity and inspiration, but the book itself will be going on the back burner.
Should the worst be realized, I’ll have my notes for Fractures and Prism ready for my wife to post in my stead, and my short story blog unlocked and opened to the public (the ones I was compiling for an anthology *SIGH* hehe), so those who are curious as to what happens to Sal and Company will have the answers they require.
I will try to post all my new stuff to my blog rather than Facebook, for posterity sake, and will link the blog posts to my Facebook page and my Gemworld page, in case you want to follow along and see what ELSE makes Jeremy tick besides gemstone magic and the shol’tul arts, but rest assured — should the Lord see fit to give me those extra years that I so desire, I’ll have two whole months of NOTHING but bed rest and recovery following the surgery before I can even THINK about going back to work or doing anything more around the house than sweeping and dishes, so yeah — I think I’ll be able to get Fractures out there in short order and take a decent bite out of Prism to boot.
I’m not arrogant enough to presume that this will disappoint anyone, but if you are one of those surprising few, you have my most humble apologies and my most earnest vow that I will do as well by you — as quickly — as possible. I covet your prayers, and thank you for your understanding.